


A Place Aside

by azephirin



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 1000-3000 words, 1000-5000 Words, Blow Jobs, Consent, Explicit Language, Group Sex, Multi, Plot What Plot, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>It must be true: There will always be a place aside for you.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place Aside

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary from "[A Place Aside](http://www.alwaysontherun.net/beth.htm#c11)," by Beth Orton.

Nyota pushes him back gently, one hand warm but firm on his chest and the other curled around his so that their fingers tangle together. Her hair, long and loose, falls to trail along his skin as she whispers, "Close your eyes."

He looks at her, then at Jim—at two pairs of eyes on him, one dark and one light, both full of intent and affection and desire. Spock has let Nyota hold him when he could feel nothing but grief and despair, has let Jim guard him when he took his mind to another place. He knows that no harm will come to him.

He closes his eyes, and someone kisses his eyelids, one and then the other. Maybe it was Nyota. Maybe it was Jim. Maybe it was both, one and then the other.

He knows Jim's body when it stretches out against his, though. Jim and Nyota are both solid and sleek in varying degrees, but Jim is heavier, the hair on his chest and legs a contrast against the smooth length of Nyota's form against Spock's other side. Spock knows Jim's hand—long fingers, calluses—when it finds Spock's free one, but even so, it takes him a moment to realize that he's now pinned. He could force his way up if he wanted to, he knows, but he also knows, despite the completely untested nature of this situation, that its purpose is not to lead him to escape by force. Its purpose is something else altogether.

He tightens his fingers around Nyota's, around Jim's, and he feels the cool press of her lips on his cheekbone and then on the bare skin of his shoulder. He's about to open his eyes again, but someone—Nyota, by the lightness of the touch and the slenderness of the hand—lays a palm over them, telling him without words to set aside his need to observe and evaluate. Just for now, just while they are together.

Another hand cups the side of his face, and then Jim is kissing him—he knows it's Jim from the generous fullness of his lips and from the unselfconscious confidence with which Jim opens Spock's mouth with his own. It isn't the first time Spock has shared this sort of intimacy, but he has done so with very few individuals, and never with males. And, of course, never with Jim.

He lets Jim taste him, lets himself taste Jim, and all intermixed with that, he can feel Nyota exploring him, learning his nipples, the sensitive areas of his side and hip, his belly and thighs. He's sure he's hard, can feel his arousal growing, wants to tangle one hand in Nyota's hair (or Jim's) and use the other to press Jim (or Nyota) closer against him, but he allows them to keep him in place. Nyota draws paths on his skin that are careful, teasing, and part of him wants to beg her to put her fingers where he wants them, while another part is horrified at saying those words, at being reduced to pleading for such things.

Jim is utterly psi-null, but his powers of observation are keener than many—including Spock—often credit. He pulls away. "Open your eyes," and Spock does. Jim is smiling down at him, lips curved as though he possesses a knowledge of which Spock is unaware. And it would be untruthful to claim that this has never occurred. Jim and Nyota share a split-second glance, and Jim continues, "You want her to touch you? Want us to touch you?"

It is not logical to feel shame about sexual desire that, however unconventional, harms no one. It is not logical to feel shame about sexual desire in and of itself—it is a normal occurrence in humans, Vulcans, and indeed most sentient species. There is neither logic nor benefit in shame.

And yet.

Nyota runs her thumb across his lips. "You don't have to say it." She punctuates the sentence with a kiss to his eyebrow and adds, "Though I hope you will someday." She traces the arch of one ear and says, "You just have to tell us yes."

"I have communicated consent nonverbally to a substantial degree," Spock points out.

"But that's not nearly as awesome for us as hearing you say yes," Jim informs him cheerfully.

"You know, and yet you insist on monosyllabic verbal confirmation?"

"Because we're humans and we're illogical and we make no damn sense," Jim agrees, "all of which you know. So will you please say yes so that I can suck your cock with a clear conscience?"

Jim's grin is bright and open. Spock forces himself to meet Jim's eyes, which are the same. "Yes," he says, trying to modulate his voice. "Yes. Please."

Nyota kisses his lips. "Thank you," she says softly.

She's still kissing him when Jim's mouth descends over the head of his penis.

Spock's eyes close without his conscious effort in the matter. His body arches in pleasure: It's hot and melting, and he feels his fingers tightening into fists. He reaches down to put a hand in Jim's hair—only to find that Nyota has pinned them both. She laces their fingers together as they kiss, but then she pushes herself up to look at him. Jim's tongue finds the spot on the underside that never fails to knock the breath out of him, and Spock bites his lip against the moan that wants to escape. Nyota licks the bitten place and says, "Let us hear you, Spock. Jim needs to know what you sound like."

Next time, Spock lets the cry break out of him.

When Jim finally lifts his head, his lips are red and swollen, and Spock wants to kiss them almost as much as he wants to beg Jim to return to what he was doing. Something in Nyota, somehow, knows this, and she releases her grip on Spock's wrists and lets him pull Jim close to taste himself inside Jim's mouth. He tangles the fingers of one hand in Jim's hair as Jim settles beside him—

—and then he's rendered breathless as Nyota sinks down onto him.

Jim turns his head to look at her, and time stops for a moment as he and Spock both watch her. "God, she's stunning," Jim says, low. "She's always stunning, but she's fucking _luminous_, Spock. How can you keep your eyes—your hands—_whatever_—off her whenever you're in the same room?"

Spock slides his hands up her thighs to rest on her hips, and she takes one and kisses the palm before returning it to its place. Jim moves to kneel beside her, to stroke her clitoris with careful fingers as he kisses her.

"You taste like Spock," she says, wrapping a hand around Jim's penis.

"Got the taste of both of you in my mouth now," he says, and does something that makes her shudder. Spock feels it, too, and he trembles with her. "Don't think I can get it out," Jim goes on. "Don't think I can ever forget what you taste like together."

Whatever her reply is to be, Jim cuts it off with another kiss.

He breaks it off to tongue her nipples, then moves down to press his lips over Spock's again. It's hard to think like this, but both of Jim's hands are in Spock's hair, so he knows Jim's not touching Nyota anymore. Spock touches her now, her secret parts familiar and loved by his fingers; it makes her moan, move faster, breathe his name.

"Make her come," Jim says. "I want to see her come on your cock, and then I want to see you come, and you're going to be moaning into my mouth while you do it."

That is, in fact, the precise sequence of events.

Her sounds are musical, breaths and little cries, and Spock will never tire of watching her, listening to her, getting his fingers and anything else wet with her as she climaxes. Her head drops back and her hair falls in a dark cascade; then she collapses forward on Spock's chest. He kisses sweat from her forehead while Jim licks it from her shoulders and back; it's only a moment, though, before she recovers enough to say, "What about the two of you?"

Spock has seen this expression on Jim's face before, and it means he's planning something. Spock has yet to conclude definitively whether this observation is to be feared or welcomed. Jim and Nyota yet again somehow manage to communicate this proposed series of events through a series of touches and facial gestures: He nudges her, and she rolls to the side to let Jim pull Spock on top of him. "Another time, I want you to do me like this," Jim says. "Slick us both up, pin me down, fuck me until I'm begging."

Nyota is running her hand up and down Spock's spine. "You think you'd beg?"

Spock looks at Jim beneath him: thighs cradling Spock's hips, eyes dark with desire. "I believe he would," Spock says, and thrusts down, letting their penises rub together.

"Like that," Jim murmurs, throat arching.

That arch invites biting, and Spock does; Jim moans, and this time, just as Jim suggested, it's Spock who pins him, holding his hands down on either side of his head. They thrust, arch, rub against each other, and it's Jim who comes first, stuttering out the consonants of Spock's name and pressing his heels into the back of Spock's thighs. His ejaculate is hot, makes the tight space between them slick, and Spock doesn't last long after that: He comes with his mouth on Jim's and Jim's body pliant and welcoming beneath his.

Jim frees his hands and settles his arms around Spock; Spock reaches for Nyota and Jim works her into his hold, too. They lie there like that for several minutes, recovering their breath, warm and quiet together.

When Spock finally gathers the courage to look up at them, their eyes are already on him, and they're smiling.


End file.
